


The Sun Won't Melt Me, But Maybe You Can

by Elliott_Fletcher



Series: And Then He'd Go Back to Sleep [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 22:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7240720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elliott_Fletcher/pseuds/Elliott_Fletcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I sleep, but only because I get to wake up next to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sun Won't Melt Me, But Maybe You Can

When you wake up to someone beside you, there's a full sense of warmth that radiates through you, tenderly touching all of your exposed nerves until you can either swoon or faint or gawk at the one beside you. Most go back to sleep when this feeling sets in, but I like to endure it, like to open my eyes and bask in the warmth, because it's so truly like the sun's rays. It's so warm.

He smiles at me, but I think he's still asleep. He can tell I'm here; I know. I reach to touch the creases around his mouth, and I wipe a blot of drool from his lip. He breathes on me, and it's foggy and deep, but I withstand it. He adjusts the arm around my hip and nuzzles into the mattress. And then he opens his eyes.

I'm quick to close mine, but he notices and pinches my cheek, and it hurts and feels red and sore now, because my face is always puffy and tender when I first wake up. He draws his fingertip through my eyelashes, teasing me with his touch, and I reluctantly open my eyes. His smile brightens, and I flinch because it's blinding, because there's no possible way for him to give off his own light but he does it anyway. He does it anyway.

"Good morning, Remi," He says, but it's fuzzy and foggy and sounds underwater, yet at the same time, it's the only sound that's absolute clarity. I nod to him, and that's when he takes my chin in his fingers, pressing, bruising my skin because I'm swollen and weak. My lips feel thicker and fuller than normal because that's how they feel when I wake up. Like they're ready to be kissed after a wonderful dream, like they're begging, and pouting, and I know it'll go away if I talk enough or wash my face, but Sirius never gives me that chance.

He kisses my lips raw until they're peeling beneath his skin. I clench the pillowcase, and it wrinkles so vividly that Sirius untangles my fingers from the fabric with his own. He wraps and hugs my hand with his own, and that's more warmth, so much warmth, and I might just me melting. I don't think the sheets will absorb me. Maybe Sirius will.

He releases me and repeats, "Good Morning."

Only this time I respond.

 


End file.
